The Curse of the One Winged Angel
by Wizard Weatherwax
Summary: This is a D&D story, but I decided to use two villains that I adore: Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII and General Grievous from Star Wars. I will try to adapt them to the D&D universe.
1. The watchful stars

**Chapter 1; The watchful stars **

Sephiroth couldn't help but to admire the stars. They looked so magical and divine. The stars gave him a warm feeling as if they were standing in the sky watching and protecting him from harm.

He was only a little boy, grieving at the lost of his beloved father. His father had been a great warrior, a true hero that had died in a battle against some evil giants. He had to be there, because he was the commander of the guards. The sergeant had told his mother, that his father had been the first soldier to advance into the battlefield, yelling his god's name as an effort to inspire the hearts of his men.

Sephiroth sighed. It would seem that Tempus had betrayed his father's trust and let him fall. He died a brave man… but he had still died.

His mother was crying. He could hear her and it pained him… it was as if his heart was being pierced by an arrow. She had been crying inside her room for what seemed like years, and not just hours. She still couldn't believe that her beloved husband was dead, that she would never kiss him again.

A tear crossed Sephiroth´s face. The stars would protect him from harm. He knew that his father must be amongst them. He deserved it.

His mother had finally stopped crying. She opened the door of her room and she started walking towards her son. Her eyes were still moist, but her stare was icy cold.

"Sephiroth, stop crying." – she ordered.

Sephiroth looked confused.

"I said stop crying!"

His mother slapped him. Sephiroth seemed to hesitate for a moment and then cleaned his tears.

"Strong men don't cry. And you are strong, Sephiroth. You are your father's son. You can't disappoint him."

Sephiroth nodded and then he rubbed his aching cheek. His mother looked through out the window that he had been watching.

"You must promise me something." – she said, while she looked at the stars.

"Yes, mother?" – asked Sephiroth.

"You must promise me that you will the strongest man of all the realms."

Sephiroth looked uncertain.

"Mother?"

She slapped him again, this time harder.

"You can't be weak. You won't be weak. You have to be strong, so that you won't die had your father."

Sephiroth looked at his mother's icy cold eyes and nodded. He didn't rub his cheek this time.

"Promise me that. Now!" – she ordered.

Sephiroth looked at his mother. She was the most beautiful women he knew, and he didn't doubt it that she was the most beautiful woman of the realms. He didn't want to disappoint her. He would never disappoint her.

"I promise." – said Sephiroth.

**… **

Sephiroth opened his eyes. Something was wrong. He could hear some voices inside the house. It wasn't his mother speaking… they were men. Why were they here?

Sephiroth got out of his bed and started walking towards the door. Who could it be?

He leaned close at the door and tried to listen to the voices.

Someone said: "We shouldn't be doing this. That man was our commander!"

One of the other men said: "He was a damn bastard! We lost many of our friends in that battlefield. For what? In order to defend a damn village that isn't even our own?"

Someone else seemed to agree and laughed. Three men? Maybe more? Why were they here?

Sephiroth´s heart seemed to beat faster by the second.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Sephiroth covered his mouth in order not to scream. It was his mother. She was confronting the three men.

One of the men said: "Jenova. So nice to see you again."

He knew his mother's name. How did he know his mother's name? What was going on?

"Arthur? Why are you here?"

Sephiroth relaxed. His mother knew one of the men. Maybe they were just friends.

The man named Arthur said: "We lost many of our lads in that damn battle, Jenova."

"I lost a husband, Arthur. And my son lost his father."

The men laughed.

Arthur said: "Yeah? And do you know what? I couldn't be happier."

"What?"

"I would have cut your damn husband's throat myself, wench!"

Sephiroth´s face was full of cold sweat. This man hated his father. What were they going to do his mother?

"You sorry excuse for a man. Leave now. At once. Or I shall call the…"

More laughter.

"Call who, Jenova? The Watch? Old Jim here is a watchman. Aren't you, Jim?"

Someone said: "Yes."

"Saves you trouble, doesn't it? I brought a watchman with me. You can call him, if you want."

There were some noises as if some sort of brawl was occurring. He could hear his mother screaming. What were they doing with her?

Arthur said: "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, wench."

"Go to hell!" – screamed Jenova.

Sephiroth was trembling with fear. They were hurting his mother.

"The hard way, then."

There were more screaming and loud noises. Sephiroth covered his ears and prayed to the stars for help.

His mother was screaming and begging for the men to stop. Sephiroth wanted to move, to save his mother, but his body would respond to his will.

Finally, the noises stopped. Sephiroth uncovered his ears and gave a little cry.

"Kill the kid." – said Arthur.

Silence.

Jim said: "But Arthur… he is just a kid."

"He must have hear us, idiot. When the townspeople find her, they will ask him questions. I don't want him to give them. Understood?"

Silence.

Sephiroth started running towards the window, but it was too late. Two men opened the door and grabbed him before he escaped.

Sephiroth looked at the two men and recognized one of them. He was a member of the Watch.

"Please don't kill me!" – begged Sephiroth.

The two men exchanged glances and then threw him against the wall.

"Sorry, kid. Nothing personal." – said Jim.

The other man picked up his dagger and approached Sephiroth. He was going to die. But worse… he wouldn't be able to save his mother.

**"You can't be weak. You won't be weak. You have to be strong, so that you won't die like your father." **

He was hearing his mother. She was talking to him.

The man grabbed Sephiroth by the throat and then laughed. This should be amusing.

**"Promise me that. Now!" **

Sephiroth glared at the man.

"I promise." – said Sephiroth.

The man looked uncertain and then laughed a bit more.

"Promise what, kid?" – asked the man.

Sephiroth´s fist broke the man's nose. The man let go of his grip and then grabbed his bleeding nose.

"Damn kid!" – yelled the man.

But Sephiroth wasn't listening to the man. He was completely focused on his mission: to save his mother. He grabbed the man's dagger and stabbed him in the belly.

Sephiroth´s face was full of blood, but he didn't care. He continued to stab the man's belly.

The man fell on the floor dead. Sephiroth glared at the body and then at the watchman. They were going to suffer. All of them.

"What the…" – said Jim.

Jim couldn't believe in his own eyes. The kid had killed Hector, one of the toughest men he knew. Better not take any chances. The watchman picked up his sword and pointed it towards Sephiroth.

But Sephiroth wasn't there anymore. Where the hell was that damn kid?

He felt a sting in his back, as dagger pierce his flesh. He screamed in pain and fell on the ground.

"Damn bastard!" – said Jim.

The watchman looked at the kid and then at the bloodied dagger.

"What are you going to do now, kid? Murder me?" – mocked Jim.

Sephiroth looked at the man. It was a cold stare, without any trace of emotions.

"Yes." – said Sephiroth.

Sephiroth cut the man's throat, and Jim grabbed the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He was suffocating, spitting blood all over the floor. Finally, he stopped moving.

Sephiroth looked at the two dead bodies. He couldn't help but admire his work. He was only a ten years old child, yet he had killed these two warriors. He was truly his father's son.

His mother will be so proud of him.

Mother…

Sephiroth started running towards the door.

Mother…

**"You can't be weak." **

Sephiroth opened the door.

**"You won't be weak." **

The boy's jaw dropped open. He was living a nightmare.

"Mother!" – screamed Sephiroth.

His mother was still alive, but she looked really hurt. The bad men had beaten her really hard. Her beautiful face was now a bloodied shadow.

"Sephiroth…" – said Jenova.

The last man looked at Sephiroth and then at his mother.

"What happened to the lads?" – growled Arthur.

Sephiroth looked at Arthur. His glare was full of hatred. A tear started crossing his face.

**"Sephiroth, stop crying." **

Sephiroth looked at his mother and then nodded. She had spoken to him in his mind. He wouldn't disappoint her. He cleaned the tear with his sleeve.

"They are all dead." – said Sephiroth.

Arthur showed Sephiroth an evil grin. The thug grabbed Jenova by her hair and pointed his sword towards her back.

"Put the dagger down, lad. Or else…" – said Arthur.

Sephiroth looked at the man and then at his mother. She was in pain and he was afraid to lose her. He let go of the dagger. He loved his mother… he didn't know what else to do.

Arthur laughed.

"Smart, kid!" – mocked the man.

"Let her go!" – demanded Sephiroth.

The man nodded.

"Why not? You did as I told you. And I am a man of my word."

Sephiroth looked a little relived. Mother…

The sword pierced through Jenova´s chest and Sephiroth screamed.

"Mother!" – screamed Sephiroth.

Arthur laughed. He was enjoying this moment. Gods knew that he wanted to this for a long, long time. How he hated the bloody commander. How he hated the man that he had once called friend. Too many good people had died against the giants.

"Die, wench." – murmured Arthur.

Jenova looked at her son and said: "Sephiroth…"

The man took the sword and showed the bloody weapon to the boy.

"You are next, lad." – said Arthur.

Sephiroth wanted to cry and to hug his dieing mother.

**"I said stop crying!" **

The man let his mother fall on the floor and stepped on her. Sephiroth looked behind him and saw the watchman's sword. He had to pick up that sword and kill that murderer.

He started running towards the sword and grabbed the hilt. Arthur laughed at the pitiful attempt of the kid.

**"You are too weak, lad… too weak." **

Sephiroth tried with all his strength to pick up the sword.

**"You can't be weak." **

He couldn't pick the sword up. It was too heavy.

**"You won't be weak." **

He was trying, but the sword was too heavy.

**"You have to be strong, so that you won't die like your father." **

He made a promise. He had to pick up the sword and avenge his mother.

But he couldn't… the sword was too heavy. Arthur kicked Sephiroth, and the boy fell on the floor.

"Nice try, kid." – mocked Arthur.

The thug's sword pierced Sephiroth´s belly and the child screamed in pain.

The pain was burning his flesh. He was dieing. He had failed his mother… he had broken his promise.

"Mother…" – mumbled Sephiroth.

He looked at the man that had murdered his mother and then closed his eyes. He was dieing… he had failed his mother.

Death was approaching, ready to take his life.

Darkness came.

But suddenly a small bright light appeared and pushed the darkness away.

He was still alive. He opened his eyes and saw the face of a young woman. He recognised her. She was a Cleric of Ilmater. Her name was…

"Sephiroth! It's me… Aeris." – said the young woman.

He was still alive. Yet the darkness had remained in his soul.


	2. The Library

**Chapter 2; The Library **

There was a loud knocking on the door, which made Jon uneasy. He was the Lorekeeper responsible for the Library of the Lord of Knowledge, where some of the most important books and tomes of the realms were kept. You could practically smell the culture in the air.

Normally, the door of the Library would be open to the seekers of knowledge, but his superiors had ordered that the security of the books should be increased. He had not asked the reason for this sudden change of policy, since he knew better than to question his superiors. Anyway, it was kind of late for a visit to the Library. Sure they sometimes had guests that appreciated the quietness of the night to read, but they always warned Jon of the time that they would arrive.

Jon was the night clerk of the Library. It wasn't really his choice. Since he suffered from insomnia, he was the best candidate for the night shift. He had two other fellow clerks that were responsible for the Library during the day. They were probably sleeping by now, if not meditating and praying to Oghma.

Jon stepped close to the door and asked: "Who is there?"

There was no answer, only a louder knock. Something was wrong, Jon could feel it. He picked up his mace and then took a deep breath. Oghma be praised, he thought, as he opened the door.

There was a young man standing outside. He was about twenty years old. The man was much taller than Jon, which made the stranger look even more intimidating for the clerk. The man had long silver hair, bright emerald-green cat-like eyes and he was wearing a long black coat.

Jon's jaw dropped. That man didn't seem like the sort that would come to the Library at such unkind hours to increase his knowledge and culture. He looked more as the sort that preferred to use his sword instead of words.

"Yes? What is it?" – asked Jon.

The man's cat-like eyes seemed to examine the clerk, as if he was looking for something. Perhaps he was evaluating him as a possible adversary in a fight? Jon's sensed a slight trembling in his legs. He was afraid of the stranger? And who in their right mind wouldn't?

The clerk also noticed that the man was armed. He had some sort of exotic weapon stashed in his belt. A katana, perhaps?

The man showed Jon an amusing smile. It wasn't a sympathetic smile, since it seemed to the clerk that it was quite intimidating. It was as if a large feline was watching his next prey.

"Greetings, clerk." – said the man.

Jon greeted the man with a gentle nod.

"Do you expect trouble?" – asked the man, while pointing towards the clerk's mace.

The clerk looked embarrassed and then put down his mace.

"I apologize for my rudeness, sir. It would seem that the darkness of the night made a bit paranoid." – said Jon.

The man laughed and said: "I also apologise for coming so late. I would have never troubled you unless it was urgent."

Jon looked intrigued.

"Urgent?" – asked Jon.

"Yes. I require information from one of your books."

"I understand that. But why urgent?"

"Let's just say that I can't wait to acquire knowledge, shall we?"

The clerk couldn't help but feel a bit doubtful of the man's real intentions. And there were the new orders from his superiors that demanded a more careful selection of the ones that could enter the Library, especially at night.

"I am afraid that I can't let you in, sir." – said Jon.

"Oh? Why is that, then?" – demanded the man.

The clerk's mouth was suddenly dry. He was irritating the strange man, which seemed like an unwise course of action. Still he had his orders to follow. This was the Library of Oghma, his deity, and as such it was his duty to protect his deity's house of knowledge.

"Quite frankly, sir, my superiors have ordered me not to let strangers inside the Library at such late hours. So unless you have a document signed by one of my superiors, I can't let you in." – said the clerk.

The man nodded and then gave him a paper that was inside his pocket. Jon couldn't help but notice that the man was left-handed. He had figured this out because of the way the katana was stashed.

"What's this?" – asked Jon.

"A document signed by one of your superiors." – said the man.

Jon read the document and looked shocked. It was indeed signed by one of his superiors. It was legit, that much was visible. Still something wasn't right. According to a group of fellow Cleric that had passed by the Library this morning, Lorekeeper Adam Hourblade had been murdered the week before. It seemed to Jon like too much of a coincidence to see his dead superior's signature to the document. But what if it wasn't? According to his superiors he had to let anyone with the signed documents enter the Library.

"Sephiroth, is it?" – asked Jon.

The man showed the clerk a grin.

"Yes." – said Sephiroth.

"Please to meet you. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Lorekeeper Adam was murdered." – said Jon.

He wanted to study the man's reaction to this news, but Sephiroth didn't even blink. The coldness of his stare could have frozen a river.

"That is unfortunate. Does that mean I can't come in?" – asked Sephiroth.

"No, no… Everything is in order, sir. You can enter the Library." – said Jon.

The man entered the Library and then Jon closed the door. The clerk couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with his decision to follow his superiors' orders.

"So what book are you looking for, sir?" – asked Jon.

"A book about a certain gate…"

The clerk looked confused.

"You have to be more precise, sir."

Sephiroth laughed. His laughter seemed to echo forever in the thick walls of the Library.

"The gate where your deity trapped Chaos, clerk."

Jon tried not to show his surprise at the sudden revelation, but failed miserably.

"That book? Yes, we do have it in here. It is a really old text. Wait a moment, sir, I will get it for you."

The clerk started walking towards one of the hundreds of shelves that were on the room and picked up a book. It was indeed a very old book. It was full of dust, which Jon tried to clean off using his hand.

"The Chaos Gate. I remember hearing my superiors mentioning the story." – said Jon.

Sephiroth seemed uninterested in the clerk's memories and asked for the book. Jon nodded and gave it to the man. Urgent, indeed.

"If my memory serves, it is a very interesting tale about our god, Oghma." – continued Jon, trying to ignore the rudeness of the man.

Sephiroth seemed to study the book with a mixture of eagerness and worry. Then he seemed to find the page that he was looking for. It would seem that he had found the knowledge that he was seeking.

"Not long after Shar and Selune created Toril and gave birth to Chauntea, the world's animating spirit, a traveller ventured to the world from a distant realm. He came upon a chaotic landscape of indistinct, shapeless concepts yearning to be given solidity. To each of these concepts he gave a name that would define it in the eons to come. Such was the power of these names that the concepts transcended their elusive existence, bound to physical form in the material world. Thus, did Oghma, the Binder of What is Known, give order to chaos and claim an honoured place among Toril's oldest deities. He trapped the powerful chaotic energies inside a gate of some sorts, which was created by a dwarven deity. The chaotic energies are said to be still trapped inside that gate… waiting… for the day that they will be released from their prison." – said Sephiroth. while he closed the book.

Jon's jaw dropped.

"Oh! You know the tale?" – asked the surprised clerk.

"Yes."

"Then… why was it urgent to read the book, sir?"

Sephiroth glared at the clerk.

"The map, clerk. I needed to see the map to the gate." – said Sephiroth.

"Map? There is no map, sir. I assure you…" – said Jon, feeling a bit uneasy with the subject.

"Oh, it is here, without a doubt. But you have to know where to look." – mocked the man.

"But… why would you want the map to such an awful place, sir?"

The question seemed to make Sephiroth hesitate.

"Well… isn't it obvious?" – asked Sephiroth.

Those cat-like eyes didn't even try to hide the man's true thoughts. He was completely mad, Jon thought.

"Yes… it is." – said Jon.

Sephiroth laughed at the man's worried face, and then said: "I am going now."

Jon mouth was suddenly dry. He couldn't help but be afraid of such dark figure, but he was still a servant of Oghma. He had to carry on with his holy duty, no matter what.

"What? I am sorry, sir, you can't leave with the book." – said Jon.

Sephiroth stopped and looked at the clerk.

"Really?" – asked the man.

The clerk started trembling, but he didn't hesitate in picking up his mace.

"That book is one of a kind, sir." – said Jon.

Sephiroth looked at the clerk with an amused expression.

"Like I said, clerk, I need the book's knowledge."

"Then read it inside the Library's walls. You can't take it with you."

"Oh, I can…" – said Sephiroth.

Sephiroth picked up his katana and cut the clerk in half. Blood splashed into the walls.

"And I will."

There were some noises coming from upstairs. Sephiroth sighed. The other clerks must have awakened.

"What is going on down there, Jon?"

Two clerks descended the stairs that lead to near the entrance. One of them was carrying a longsword, while the other was holding a crossbow.

"Jon?" – asked on of them.

"By Oghma!" – yelled the other clerk.

The two clerks couldn't believe their own eyes. A murder inside their deity's house of knowledge. Evil had tainted the Library with its corrupted claws.

And there, in front of them, stood the murderer. He was holding a bloodied sword and showing them a mocking grin.

"I am sorry… Jon can't talk with you right now. Perhaps you should try talking to his ghost?" – said Sephiroth.

The clerk that was holding the crossbow pointed his weapon towards the murderer.

"You fiend!" – cried the clerk.

Sephiroth´s glare was as cold as death itself.

"Fiend? Is that supposed to offend me, priest?" – asked Sephiroth.

"You will pay for your barbaric actions!"

"Believe me, priest… I would love to play with you. But I have other business to attend to."

The murderer sheathed his bloodied sword and started walking towards the door.

"You shall not leave!" – yelled the clerk that wielded the longsword.

Sephiroth turned to face the two clerks and said: "Really? And who will stop me? You? Oghma?"

"What?" – asked one of the clerks, feeling offended by such disrespect towards his god.

The murderer sighed.

"Fun is fun, priest. But now it's time for you to die… Grievous?" – said Sephiroth.

The two clerks seemed to hesitate for a moment, seeming lost with whom the murderer was talking to. Then the doors to the Library were bashed open and a powerful figure stepped inside the building.

The creature looked mechanical, but moved with great agility and ease. The creature's face looked like a human skull.

"Yes, Sephiroth?" – asked the intimidating creature.

"These two gentlemen are boring me. Take care of them." – said Sephiroth.

The creature's reptilian eyes blinked. He looked at the two clerks and nodded. Grievous picked up two scimitars from his belt and started moving towards the two trembling men.

"What kind of aberration is this?" – asked the clerk with the crossbow.

The other clerk shook his head in confusion, as if he was wondering that himself.

"Some sort of golem?" – said the clerk.

The other clerk nodded and pointed his crossbow towards Grievous. He had heard about such abominations. A flesh golem: part mechanical, part flesh. They were usually either created by spellcasters or by gifted crafters.

"Be gone, you foul creature!"

"We don't fear you!" – said the other clerk, while pointing his longsword towards the creature.

The clerk with the crossbow fired the bolt, but Grievous was able to dodge the attack. Both clerks looked petrified with fear.

"Fear me?" – said Grievous.

The clerk started to reload the crossbow, while his companion slashed the air, trying to intimidate the cruel golem. Grievous laughed at the pitiful attempt of the human to gain his friend some time. Fool!

"Fear is not a requisite for me to kill you, human." – said Grievous.

Grievous attacked the clerk with the longsword and pierced the man's chest with his scimitars. The clerk screamed in pain and then died. Grievous looked bored. He had expected more challenge from a Cleric of Oghma.

"Fear only makes things more… interesting." – said the creature, while he took his scimitars from the dead man's chest.

The clerk looked at his dead companion and muttered a few prayers. The he fired his crossbow and this time the bolt hit its target. He had struck the foul creature right in shoulder. Grievous looked at the bolt and then at the clerk. The mechanical creature laughed and then guarded his weapons. With an incredible agility Grievous attacked the clerk and grabbed the man's neck.

"Ah! But what is this? Isn't that a little bit of fear I see reflected in your eyes?" – mocked Grievous.

The clerk kicked and punched the creature's face and arm, but to no avail. If Grievous was feeling any pain, then he failed to show it.

"It is isn't it?" – asked Grievous.

The man looked at the creature's yellow reptilian eyes… they were a void of emotions. He had only seemed such emptiness in the eyes of the dead. Grievous tightened his grip. He was waiting for an answer, or so it would seem. The clerk closed his eyes and begged his god for forgiveness.

"I… am… afraid…" – mumbled the clerk.

Grievous nodded triumphant.

"Now… that wasn't so difficult, was it?" – asked Grievous.

He broke the clerk's neck and then tossed the body against the shelves. Several books feel on the floor and on top of the dead clerk.

"Pathetic creature." – mumbled the mechanical creature.

Grievous looked at Sephiroth, who seemed very amused with the creature's bloodshed. He even started applauding.

"I have the book, Grievous. We should leave." – said Sephiroth.

Grievous nodded and said: "Yes, Sephiroth."

Both villains started walking towards the exit, but then Sephiroth stopped. Grievous looked at his companion with a confused look.

"My, my, Grievous. Have you any idea where you are?" – asked Sephiroth.

The mechanical creature sighed.

"A damn library." – said Grievous.

"Not just a library, Grievous. This is one of the most important libraries in all the realms. There are thousands of books in here."

"So?"

"You were always a bit of an illiterate fool, Grievous."

Grievous shrugged. He just didn't care about books. He only cared about the art of wielding a sword, the legacy of warriors.

"People would die to protect such lore." – said Sephiroth.

Grievous laughed and then pointed towards the dead clerks. Sephiroth nodded and joined the laughter.

"Ah! My mistake… people have died." – corrected the man.

Sephiroth grabbed a torch that was illuminating the Library and then pointed the flaming torch towards the shelves full of books.

"It is good that I am not an illiterate fool as you, Grievous. Or I would be tented to do something that can only be described as unthinkable."

Grievous shrugged. He was failing to see Sephiroth´s point in all of this tiresome discussion.

"But like I said… I am not an illiterate fool." – said Sephiroth while looking at the flame of the torch.

Sephiroth threw the torch against the shelves and a fire immediately started. The fire was devouring the lore of centuries, as well as burning the holy house of a god.

Grievous glared at the vicious flames and muttered a curse. Few people would dare to mock a god as powerful as Oghma… and all of them would be certainly mad.

"No, Sephiroth… you are just a fool." – said Grievous.

Sephiroth laughed and then exited the Library. These were but small sins compared to what he planned to do next.


	3. Masamune

**Chapter 3; ****Masamune**

It was a peaceful evening, but Jeremy knew that this was but an illusion. Since he had become a higher Cleric in the service of Mystra, the goddess of Magic, Jeremy had never tasted peace again.

He sighed and then looked at the letter one more time, as if that action would make the bad news go away. Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

"What shall we do, my lord?" – asked the servant that had brought the letter.

Jeremy put down the papers on top of his desk and then said: "Summon my three advisers."

The servant nodded and then seemed to hesitate. Jeremy knew the reason for the boy's hesitation, but he nevertheless decided to ask: "Yes?"

"What about the Wizard, my lord? He wants to have a word with you." – reminded the servant.

The high priest of Mystra sighed. He knew the messenger well or at least knew that the man was honest. He wouldn't lie about such grave news.

"Let him in." – ordered Jeremy.

The servant gave a small bow and then said: "It shall be done, my lord."

Few minuets after the servant had left, someone knocked on the door. Jeremy gave permission to enter, and a man stepped forward. The man was a Wizard that much was visible even for a non-spellcaster of the arcane arts. The man's staff and robe were covered in magic runes that would no doubt increase the Wizard's power and defense.

"Jeremy." – said the man.

The high priest of Mystra felt a bit awkward. He knew the boy since he was child, yet he barely recognize him.

"It has been a long time, Percy." – said Jeremy, while showing a bright smile.

"I agree." – said Percy.

Jeremy pointed towards the papers that were on his secretary.

"I have read your letter…" – said the high priest.

"I know. Terrible news, isn't it?" – asked Percy.

"I can not think of anything worse."

"Where are your men?"

Jeremy looked a bit uncomfortable. He could easily foresee some troubles… most of the members of the church hadn't accepted Percy's decision to leave the church of Mystra in order to join Oghma´s, Lord of Knowledge.

"My… advisors will come shortly." – said Jeremy.

The door to the room opened and three robed figures entered.

"What is the meaning of this, Jeremy?" – asked a woman, that Percy knew to be a powerful Sorceress.

"Do you know what time is it?" – said a young Wizard, even younger than Percy.

The third figure looked at the messenger and yelled: "By Mystra… why is he here?"

Percy sighed. He knew that his return to his former church would be difficult, but he would have never dreamt that he would feel so uncomfortable in a house that had once been his.

"Greetings, Robert." – said the messenger, while giving a small bow.

The old Wizard looked annoyingly at the high priest.

"Why is this… traitor… amongst us?" – demanded Robert.

"You still hold a grudge, old man?" – asked Percy.

The old Wizard looked at Percy with contempt.

"You were the best, Percy. You had talent and patience. I had high hopes for you."

"But?"

"You left Mystra´s teaching in order to join Oghma´s ranks."

"I found faith in knowledge and in Oghma´s word. Is that so wrong?"

"You are a deserter!" – yelled Robert and pointing his finger accusingly.

The high priest stood between the two Wizards and said: "Enough! I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour from high members of a church."

Robert and Percy looked at each other and then nodded in agreement.

"Why are you here, then?" – asked Karla, the Sorceress.

Percy looked at the beautiful woman and said: "I bring grave news."

"What kind of grave news, pray tell?" – asked Robert, his tones as sharp as an assassin's dagger.

"One of Oghma´s libraries was burned down." – said Percy, while ignoring his former teacher's dark mood.

"By Mystra!" – said Karla.

"Was it an accident?" – asked Ronald, the younger Wizard.

Percy shook is head sadly and said: "No, it wasn't."

Karla looked a bit suspicious. Was he blaming one of the clerks for this horrible occurrence? That was a very serious accusation, since the library was no doubt guarded by loyal men of the church, who would prefer to die over betraying their god's trust.

"How can you be so certain?" – asked the Sorceress.

Percy showed Karla a confident smile.

"I was asked to find out what happened. I am, after all, a very gifted diviner." – he said.

"Bah! Above average." – growled Robert.

Percy glared angrily at his former teacher and said: "Nevertheless… I discovered what happened."

"So?" – asked Ronald.

Percy made a few hand gestures and muttered a few words. Suddenly they were surrounded by bookshelves.

"What?" – asked the Sorceress.

They were not inside the high priest's room anymore, but inside a library. Karla studied her surrounding and spotted two men. Strangely enough, the men were a bit blurry as if they were but an illusion of some sorts. One of them looked as if he was a clerk of the library and the other…

The Sorceress felt a slight confusion. She thought that there was something strange about that other man. He looked like a warrior, a very experienced one, yet he was still very young. But he definitely had an aura of some sorts that made you shiver and fear him as if you were facing a lethal adversary.

"Fear not. These are but images of what happened that night." – explained Percy.

The high priest nodded and gestured for the others to calm down. Robert looked annoyed by Percy's mastery of this divination spell, but then again the old Wizard was always very grumpy.

"How horrible!" – said Ronald, as he watched the warrior cut the clerk in half.

The blood of the dead clerk seemed to pain the walls around them, and suddenly the illusionary images seemed to pause. The warrior stood very still as if he was paralysed.

"How can someone commit such… such… atrocities?" – wondered the high priest while looking at the dead clerk.

Percy sighed. He also felt pain at the loss of such dedicated and loyal companions. The Wizard muttered a few magic words and another illusionary image appeared right next to the warrior. It was a mechanical beast of some kind. Its yellow reptilian eyes seemed to reflect contempt and grief.

"What kind of monstrosity is that?" – asked Ronald, looking a bit intrigued.

"A golem of some sorts, I think." – said Karla, while examining the aberration more closely.

"Is he an arcane spellcaster?" – asked Robert while pointing towards the murderer.

Percy shook his head and said: "I doubt it."

"A Cleric, then? I can't help but feel a strong magical aura that surrounds him."

"Yes. I feel the same." – said the Sorceress.

"From what I could gather, he isn't a spellcaster." – said Percy.

"Strange."

"Maybe. Why are you showing this to us?" – asked Robert.

"Pardon?"

"Sure, it is a horrible disaster that demands a swift retribution. But why us?"

Percy looked at the high priest as if he was asking for permission to give the answer. Jeremy looked at the young Wizard of Oghma and nodded.

"Look at his sword…" – said Percy.

"What?" – asked Robert.

Jeremy pointed towards the murderer's sword and started muttering a few prayers. A tear crossed his old, wrinkled face.

"It's just a sword." – said Karla, failing to see why was the high priest so worried.

"Look again…" – begged Percy.

The Sorceress sighed and then looked again at the weapon. Then she understood her leader's reaction. Robert seemed to have reached the same conclusion as her. She could see it in his face.

"Heretic!" – yelled the Sorceress.

"Blasphemer!" – yelled Robert, while punching the illusionary image.

Jeremy begged for his two friends to calm down and so they did after a while. The shock had been too painful for them to remain at ease.

"It can't be!" – said Karla.

"Ah! But I fear that it is…" – said Jeremy.

Robert looked at Percy who muttered the dreadful sword's name: "Masamune."

"The sword that was forged with Mystra´s blood." – said the Sorceress.

"Indeed." – said Percy.

"Impossible! We were told that the demon that committed such atrocity was killed!"

The high priest nodded in agreement with the Sorceress and said: "Indeed. The demon was indeed killed and banished to the hells. But from what I have gathered, the sword was never recovered."

"What are you talking about?"

Everyone stopped talking and then glanced at Ronald, who seemed lost in all of this discussion.

"Only a few of us… know about this dark tale, Ronald." – said Jeremy.

Ronald didn't seem satisfied with explanation and said: "He seems to know it."

The young Wizard looked at Percy and the follower of Oghma said: "Well… I occupied your position before I left, Ronald." – said Percy.

"Then why wasn't I told about it?"

"The matter was never forced to be brought up. It is not a topic that we talk about lightly." – said Karla.

"May I know it now, at least? Now that the matter has been brought up?"

"Very well…"

Jeremy approached Ronald and put his hand on top of the young Wizard's shoulder.

"As you probably know there was another Lady of Mysteries before the current Mystra?" – asked the high priest.

"Of course. She was killed by Helm during the Time of Troubles, because she wanted to set things right." – said Ronald.

"She was a mortal then. Her flesh could be cut… she could be harmed."

"She died, I know that much."

"Yes, she sacrificed herself for all of us…"

Jeremy's face was full of sweat. It was quite visible that telling this tale was causing him great pain, yet he was decided to tell it to end.

"A demon lord of some sorts was able to acquire a vial full of Mystra´s blood." – said Jeremy.

"What? How is that possible?" – asked the young Wizard.

"We don't know… the Time of Troubles were chaotic. Little is known of what truly happened and of the perils that the deities had to face as mortals."

"So the demon lord had a vial full of Mystra´s blood. What did he do with it?"

"The demon lord crafted a magical sword… a katana from the little information that we could gather… and forged the sword with Mystra´s blood."

"But wasn't it the blood of a mortal Mystra?"

"Not when the Time of Troubles ended."

Ronald nodded. He felt his throat dried, and he started to share his leader's pain. Hearing such dark tale about your deity could be devastating for the soul.

"What happened, then?" – asked Ronald.

"The sword… that was named by the demon lord as Masamune… became one of the most powerful magical weapons of all the realms."

"According to rumors, the sword makes the wielder completely immune to magic." – said Robert.

"A very powerful protection against a Wizard or a Cleric." – added the Sorceress.

Percy nodded in agreement and said: "It makes the wielder the perfect Wizard-slayer."

"How horrible!" – said Ronald.

"We sent some agents after the demon lord. We had to stop him and put an end to this heresy by destroying the sword." – continued Jeremy.

The high priest looked at the sword that the warrior was wielding and muttered: "The demon was defeated. The losses on our part were terrible."

"Few agents returned." – said the Sorceress.

"And of those few agents that returned, only two survived."

"Yes. Those two…" – growled Robert.

Percy noted the tone that his teacher had applied to the words he spoke. So he wasn't the only one that the old Wizard seemed to distrust? Interesting.

"So now do you understand why I came here, Robert?" – asked Percy.

Robert nodded and said: "Yes. The murderer will surely pay for his crimes against the churches of Mystra and Oghma."

"But if he is immune to magic… what can we do?" – asked Ronald, looking worried.

The Wizard of Oghma coughed politely, until he got everyone's attention.

"Send the two agents that survived the battle against the demon lord." – suggested Percy.

"What?" – asked Karla.

"You mean… to call those two aberrations?" – raged Robert.

Jeremy looked angrily at the old Wizard and said: "Robert! They have been both loyal servants of Mystra. I will not have you speak ill of them."

"Mercenaries, that's what they are. They are not even from our dimension!" – said Robert.

"Nevertheless, it seems like our best move. They stopped the demon when everyone else failed." – said Percy.

"Enough! You are no longer one of us, Percy!" – yelled Robert.

The Sorceress gestured for the old Wizard to calm down and said: "Do not let your anger cloud your judgment."

Robert looked at Percy, who seemed to be amused at the old Wizard's stubbornness, and said: "Why you little…"

"Robert, I will not warn you again. Disrespect our order once again, and I will have to ask you to leave." – said Jeremy.

"Very well. Summon forth the two mercenaries, then. Do whatever you wish!" – said Robert.

"But there is more…" – said Percy, after the old Wizard seemed to regain his posture.

"More grave news?" – asked the Sorceress.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"And do they involve the end of Toril?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Your church isn't the only one with dark tales. Oghma´s church has also a couple of them." – said Percy.

"And what do they have to do with the murderer in the library?" – asked Ronald.

"From what I could gather he took a book." – said Percy.

"Yes?"

"A book that leads to the Chaos Gate."

"The Chaos Gate?"

"I remember that story. Oghma looked the chaotic energies inside a portal of some sorts. And asked a dwarven deity to build up a gate to keep Toril safe from chaos." – said Jeremy.

Percy looked impressed. Few outside his church knew about this tale.

"Indeed." – said the follower of Oghma.

"Dwarven deity?" – asked Ronald.

"Moradin, the Soul Forger." – said Percy.

"Why a dwarven deity?"

"Why not? I it's not my place to question my deity's logic. I assume that it is because of the dwarven impressive craftsmanship."

"The little buggers do have a fine skill in metalcraft and stonework." – said Robert, while showing a mocking grin.

"And lucky for us that one of our agents is well connected with priests of Moradin." – said Jeremy, while concentrating his thoughts on the murderer's possible dark motives for committing such a cruel crime.

"Indeed." – said Percy.

"I just don't understand… why is Toril in danger?" – asked the Sorceress.

"We think that he plans to open the Chaos Gate." – said Percy.

"And release chaos all over Toril?"

"Another Time of Troubles?" – asked Robert.

"I doubt it… it will certainly be the end of all of life. The destruction of Toril." – said Percy.

"What can we do to stop such madness?" – asked Ronald.

"Send your agents to talk with the priests of Moradin. Perhaps they know of the location of the Chaos Gate." – suggested Percy.

"What then?" – asked Jeremy.

"They must put a stop to these villains´ plans."

"Easier said than done." – said Ronald.

"Saving Toril was never an easy task, Ronald." – said the high priest.

Percy and the others nodded in agreement and the young Wizard looked a bit embarrassed.

"I will give the orders right away." – assured Jeremy.

"I thank you for you time." – said Percy, while giving a small bow.

The illusions seemed to be dispelled and they were on the high priest's room again.

The high priest looked at Karla and said: "Summon forth La´NaraK."

The Sorceress nodded and then looked at Robert, who looked uncertain if this was a wise decision. She knew that the old Wizard was usually too much precautious for his own good, but she couldn't help but agree with him. She also distrusted the agent's true motive for helping the church, but she knew for sure that they were very efficient in terms of results.

"Yes, Jeremy." – said Karla.

So it had come to this. They had to ask the outsiders to help them save the realms… again.


End file.
